Bobby's Thanks
by TrumpetBeast
Summary: In time for a late Thanksgiving. Bobby just got fired from hockey and comes home to spend time with his family, but it's never that simple.   Pre-movie.


Disclaimer: I do not own "Four Brothers".

Takes place

Bobby was in a rotten mood. He'd just lost his fourth job in three months because they didn't like the way he greased his hair. Or something, his head had hurt so bad from last night's drinking binge that he had had trouble listening to his boss's explanation for why they were "letting him go". Then he'd given the guy the finger and cussed him out, and then it was a little blurry, but he was in car now, driving fast. The truth was that after he'd lost his job playing hockey as the "Michigan Mauler" he felt lost and was hardly scraping by. He'd loved that job, and if that guy hadn't been such a wuss and tried to sue him he would still have it.

The hell-hole he rented out didn't charge much rent, so he figured he was clear to leave his stuff there for now. What he needed was a little dose of motherly love and some time with his brother's to straighten him out. Besides, it was Thanksgiving, so there wasn't any chance of finding a job soon anyway. Sighing, he cringed as he felt a little tear drip down his face. No way, this was not happening. He wiped it off and straightened up in his seat, slamming his foot onto the abused brake and taking off onto the highway.

He drove close to all night, only stopping at a gas station to fill up and get a Pepsi and some chips. Finally, after a long time, he found himself on the edge of Detroit, then pulling into the driveway of Evelyn's house, which was sloppily shoveled. Indeed, the shovel was tossed hastily onto a bank of snow, where the foot scuffles led him to believe the job had been abandoned in favor of a snow fight. Sighing, he cut the ignition, and hoisted his bag over his shoulder, getting out of the car. He grabbed the shovel, thankful that it hadn't been stolen, and headed inside, through the garage so that he could ditch it.

Just as he was heading in through the garage door, he heard a yell and a shaky voice from upstairs.

"Don't move! I've got a gun," the last part was muffled as the person moved down the stairs quickly. What the heck? It was Jack, hefting an outdated rifle and shaking all the way down through his boots, or as it was, green wool socks.

"Put that thing down, Jack, before you kill someone," he exclaimed, not knowing what his gangly brother had planned for the weapon. Jack emerged into the light, frowning, the gun down.

"Bobby?" He questioned, sounding small.

"That's me. What the fuck was that?" Bobby demanded, staring at the lean figure.

"Well…," Jack just gazed at him, mouth open humorously in shock. "Oh Bobby, I'm so glad you're home!" He ran forward, dropping the gun on the settee, and grabbed the Michigan Mauler around the waist in a tight hug, burrowing his head in the man's chest. Bobby was a little surprised, but then hugged back, pulling the teenager into him and ruffling his hair. Then he grinned, releasing him and maneuvering him towards the kitchen.

"What's with this gun, anyway?" He asked, looking the thing over while Jack rummaged in the fridge for leftovers. "It doesn't even have a safety."

Jack cleared his throat before speaking. It was a sort of habit, something he did a lot. "I found it in Evelyn's closet, I think its kind old." Bobby chuckled harshly.

"I'll say. What need does the Fairy have for a firearm anyway?" He wondered aloud. He watched Jack stiffen and freeze in place where he stood at the fridge. Then his brother emerged with some Tupperware containers and dragged them over to the counter, pulling a plate from the counter. It was quite awhile before he spoke again.

"Angel's been out, quite a lot. I don't know, but I think Ma's been kinda worried. So yeah, we just kind of keep that around, to fake people out I guess," he replied, frowning. Bobby considered this. He counted on strong, tough Angel to be there for Ma and Jack. They lived in a rough spot of town, no matter how you looked at it, and he wanted someone there for them. He would have to talk with Angel later.

Jack set a steaming plate of food in front of him, and shuffled over to sit beside him at the table, rubbing his cold hands together.

"So…" said Bobby, stuffing his face. "How's school?" He grinned when Jack wrinkled up his nose in disgust at the thought. There was no reply, and after a while with only the sounds of eating Bobby realized that he wasn't going to get an answer. "About usual, then? Ah, well, nothing a game of hockey can't fix."

"Tonight?" Jack asked, looking down at his fingers. Bobby stopped, fork half way to his open mouth.

"Eager, are we, little fairy? Haven't been playin' a lot, I guess. Not tonight, though, I'm too tired." He finished eating, and cleared his plate. Jack shifted, looking down, and blowing on his hands. Then he stood up and cleared Bobby's plate.

"'Night."

"Sure." Bobby watched as his brother disappeared upstairs.

Bobby woke slowly the next morning, groaning groggily and turning over, almost falling off the couch. Sometimes he forgot how small Evelyn's house was. Really there were only three bedrooms-her room, the one Jerry and Bobby had shared that was Angel's now, and the tiny one that Jack had all to himself. It made one appreciate Evelyn's patience a little more when you realized how close they all lived, especially with such cold, soggy winters. For once Bobby felt a little better about his closet-sized apartment.

He heard soft voices in the front room and sat up, shifting the blanket off his legs. Just as he stood and stretched, Ma and Jerry walked into the room.

"Oh, Bobby, how nice to see you!" Exclaimed Evelyn, hurrying over to hug him. He grinned and looked down at her graying crown. "You too, Ma." She pulled back and held him by the four arms, looking him over. He became aware of his tattered hockey jersey and dirty jeans, his ratty white socks. "They gave you the whole holiday off?" she asked.

"Ah, yeah, a few days," Bobby mumbled, looking down at his feet and knowing that she had probably already guessed why he'd come.

"Hey big guy," said Jerry, stepping forward and clapping him on the shoulder and hugging him. "How goes it?"

"Good, which girl you got now, I wanna meet her." Jerry grinned at him.

"You already have, it's Camille."

"No kidding man!" Yelled Bobby. "You're still hanging out with that chick?"

"I'm am," replied Jerry.

"Where's Angel, and Jack?" asked Bobby, looking around. Evelyn had moved into the kitchen and was rustling around.

"Angel is upstairs sleeping, and Jack has been out all morning. Rye or wheat bread for your toast?"

"Wheat please. You know, last night when I came home, Jackie came downstairs pointing this," he held up the rifle, "and telling me to put my hands up. Where's Angel been, besides here at home?"

Evelyn paused in making breakfast. "Well, Bobby, he's a busy boy. He plays basketball, now for the county team, and he has training with a coach twice a week-"

"That still doesn't account for why he's out in the evenings!"

"Bobby, you weren't home early every night at his age either, were you?"

"No, but I knew that Jerry was here to watch over you guys!" She set a plate down in front of him. They heard a door open upstairs and moments later, Angel came plodding downstairs.

"Hey," he grumbled, then saw Bobby. They stood staring for a second, then Angel gave him a strange look and Bobby ran over and hugged him.

"Good to see you, shorty." Angel squirmed in his arms, trying to punch him, but Bobby had his arms pinned and was laughing.

Finally, he released his brother, mussing up his hair. "How goes it man?" Angel just shrugged. "Good, I guess." He turned and went into the foyer, pulling on some shoes and a sports jacket. "Ma, I'm going to play basketball with the boys. I'll be back later." He hollered, jerking a beanie over his short hair.

"What! No hockey?" Exclaimed Bobby, following him outside. He shut the door and Evelyn and Jerry shared a look, laughing, as Bobby harassed his younger brother all the way to his car. There were a few loud shots as Angel got his junker riled up, and then a screech as he pulled out, leaving Bobby, who burst in through the door moments later, breaking the silence.

"Well," he said frowning. "We can't play hockey with two." He sulked, sitting down to eat.


End file.
